


All's Fair In Love and Dragons

by Talonwillow (TalonWillow)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Co-Parenting, Dragon Armor, Dragons, F/M, Family, Fluffy Ending, Kilts, Mothers Love, Weasley Family-centric (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalonWillow/pseuds/Talonwillow
Summary: Hermione never dreamed she would see so many historical and cultural inaccuracies in one place. Between the Elves, robe-wearing Jedi's, pirates, and the woman wearing stunning medieval gowns with trainers beneath them, it was enough to make her eye twitch. But it was worth it all to see the joy on her daughter's face as they spent the day at the Renaissance Festival. It was also worth it because she got to spend time with a certain kilt-wearing dragonologist.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 20
Kudos: 35
Collections: With Love Weasley





	1. Like Jousting, terrible accents, and corsets?

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [With_Love_Weasley](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/With_Love_Weasley) collection. 



> Thank you to the amazing EmotionalsupportHufflepuff for her awesome beta skills and Maurauve and TriDogMom for alphaing... Ya'll are the best. 
> 
> To everyone who has fond memories of a Renn Faire, Huzzah !!! 
> 
> There is a Sonnet lovingly told by our Dragonologist to appease the head jailer. That Sonnet and other amazing ones can be found in PopSonnet's by Erik Didriksen. 
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> Character A takes Character B to a muggle Renaissance Faire.

"But mum," The dramatic whine could hardly be heard over the rowdy noise of the numerous children running through the Burrow that evening.

"Iris Morgan Potter-Granger..." Hermione Granger scolded, trying her hardest to speak in her most authoritative voice. Since her 7-yr old daughter had been blessed with both 'the Potter charm' and 'the Granger obstinance,' that endeavor was proving to be quite a challenge. "If you want to go to this renaissance fair or festival, whatever it's called, you will listen when I tell you to slow down. And, watch your tongue... are we clear?" 

"Ughhh…"

"Iris..." Hermione drew out her name in warning. 

The girl halted, a determined look upon her face. A face that reminded Hermione of her own at that age-all but the eyes, she definitely had Harry's eyes. "Yes, ma'am... I'm sorry. I will slow down..."

"And..." Hermione prompted.

Iris shifted her head around, weighing her options. "And I will...watch my tongue...." A huge grin split her previously hardened face. "But what am I supposed to watch it do?" 

The tension immediately diffused with her attempt at cheek. Hermione chuckled and pulled her tight to her chest for a hug while the rest of the room giggled and laughed, comparing the girl to a young Fred or George. 

Iris turned her gaze up to her mother, re-applying the Potter charm, "But please, please, please, can we still go to the renaissance festival?" Little hands folded prayerfully, eyes imploring, lip quivering. 

"Renaissance Festival?" came the question from someone in the room.

"Like jousting, terrible accents and corsets?" came another query, this one from Blaise Zabini. His heavily pregnant wife Ginny was perched on his lap, staring longingly at the uneaten slab of treacle tart in front of Hermione. 

She pushed the tart to the ravenous Ginny before addressing her child. Smoothed the dark unruly curls behind her ears and straightening her glasses for her, Hermione sighed and relented. "Yes, we will still go. As long as there is no more roughhousing with the others." 

"Unless it's Jack," Ginny mumbled through the dessert that was being packed into her mouth. "Rough him up all you want; he needs someone to knock him down a peg." 

Iris made her speedy escape as Molly, Arthur, Blaise, Ron, Ron's wife Pansy, and Hermione turned to look at the mother of two about to be three. "Wha… He...a wittle herk", she stated of her oldest son while licking the extra sweetness off her fingers.

"Anyways," Hermione felt it best to shift gears away from the potentially disastrous parenting talks that were coming, given the appalled looks on Molly and Arthur's faces. "Yes, well, Iris has been studying medieval and Renaissance history in her class at school this last year. Her teacher encouraged the students to attend a festival, fair, or re-enactment at some point over break so that they could experience it first hand. So we're going tomorrow." 

"That's a lovely idea, dear," Molly spoke warmly. 

"Why not just send her to work with Harry at Hogwarts for a day when he gets back from his honeymoon?" Ginny spoke up. This time from over at the table where she was opening a bag of crisps. "She could just spend the day talking to the ghosts or the portraits. Hell, being in the castle itself is like living in the middle ages…"

"Because sister-dearest," The tall figure of Charlie Weasley swept into the room- snatching the bag of crisps right out of Ginny's hand. "My darling 'Wild Iris' would miss out on so much. Hogwarts can't give her the experience of eating giant turkey legs, meeting fairies, learning about nobility, a human chess match, and music. Oh, the music... And not to mention there are children's activities and inaccurate portrayals of pirates and wenches…" 

Charlie launched himself onto the only empty seat in the room, which just so happened to be right next to Hermione on the large sofa. He looked over and winked at her while popping a crisp into his mouth. 

Molly ran towards him and threw her arms around his neck from behind. Squeezing tightly before manipulating his head to shower him with kisses atop his slightly long, curly red hair. He looked over to Hermione with a 'help me' look etched across his face, which earned a giggle.

"Ohhh, Charlie dear. It is so good of you to come; all my children are home now. Well, almost all my children. I do miss my Harry, and...", She breathed a sigh as she released Harry's new husband's name, "Draco as well, I guess. Hermione, you said they should be coming home in about another week, right?" At Hermione's polite nod, she turned her attention back to her second-oldest son. "You look starved; let me go make you something to eat. That is if Ginny has left us anything..." The last part, she muttered under her breath as she hurried off, yelling for some of the children to come help in the process. 

Growing up an only child, the notion of always having someone there was foreign to her. But with this family, no one was ever lonely -and Molly had made it quite clear that she and Harry were family. 

After the war, Harry had accompanied Hermione to Australia to reverse the memory charm on her parents. The two of them spent a year living there, working tirelessly; however, their efforts proved fruitless, the memory charms were irreversible. Harry had been her rock emotionally, and their relationship eventually turned physical. They welcomed Iris about a year later and had been successfully co-parenting her for the last 7 years. Discovering that their relationship was really just meant to be as best friends was eye-opening. That discovery also helped Harry understand that he had intense feelings for Draco Malfoy. 

The Potter-Malfoy wedding was the talk of the Wizarding World. She had stood proudly by Harry's side as his 'best woman,' and Iris had been thrilled to serve as the 'ring security' for the ceremony. Even now, the two former enemies were finishing out their extended honeymoon. She really couldn't be more thrilled for him. He deserves someone who makes him happy; everyone does. 

She looked around the room, appreciating the large family and the joy it brought her. Ron had met and married Pansy Parkinson of all people. Ginny and Blaise had married shortly after the war and started very quickly on their little family. George and Angelina had been together almost as long and had also contributed some little noise-makers to the crew. Bill and Fleur and their three children were always close by for Iris to play with. Percy and his partner Theo did not have any children yet, but they hoped to adopt within the next year. With Ginny due any day now, it looks like Charlie had even made it a point to come to stay for a while to help out where needed. 

She truly loved this family- her family. 

"Come off it, Charlie...I can't picture you at a muggle Renaissance Fest." Ron scoffed. 

"How's this, little Ronikins," Charlie responded with wide eyes, appalled at his brother's disbelief. "You'll have no choice but to picture it once I show you the award I won for 'Best Legs in a Kilt.'" 

Badgering of 'Prove it's' and 'Let's see those legs then,' as well as laughter, flooded the room.

"If I may have your attention, please..." Arthur stood at the front of the room, banging on an old metal pot with what looked like an autographed drumstick in the other. Hermione cringed inwardly, wondering just which famous musicians' priceless drumstick Arthur was carelessly whacking about.

"The fireworks show- courtesy of Weasley & Weasley-," cheers went up across the room as George and Ron gave mock bows and pretended to shush the masses, "-Is ready. Let us go out and herald in summer the best way we know how. With a lot of noise, lights, and some excellent anti-muggle charms. Now, let's go!" 

Hermione called for Iris to come down so they could accompany the rest outside. She excitedly grabbed her mother's hand, anxious to see the grand display about to take place. There was a presence on the other side of her precocious daughter; she had caught another's hand as well. She was now using their two hands as a swing. 

"Uncle Charlie, when did you get here?" Iris shouted up to the person on the other side, excitement running through her as she pulled on both their arms and spat out rapid-fire questions making up for the last three months since she had seen him last. "Did your Dragon have babies yet? Can I have one when she does? That would be the most awesomestly thing ever? Grand-Arthur said this is gonna be the biggest, most epic fireworks show ever. I hope there's another snake. This time I'm not gonna be afraid..." 

Hermione looked up, not to the now thundering fireworks spectacle of magenta-colored floating butterflies or dancing unicorns, but over to Charlie. His nods of acknowledgment were meant for her daughter, but his dazzling smile was leveled directly at her. She couldn't help but flinch and chuckle at her child's use of made-up words. For how much Iris took after her in particular ways, she certainly had a personality all her own.

She could understand the girl's excitement to see the impressive Dragonologist. Though not her uncle by blood, Charlie was probably her favorite person on the planet because he got to work with the animals she loved best - Dragons. Though his work kept him away at the newly founded Dragonology Institute in Romania, both mother and daughter always looked forward to his appearances. Hermione often spoke with Charlie either via owl or through Floo, but that was mostly for work. As the newly appointed Director of Magical Beast and Being's, she had quite a bit of dealing with the institute. 

But it was times like this that she wished she had more of. It seemed like the only time she ever got to talk to him was when there were family near or co-workers. What would it be like to spend time with the handsome man alone or at least not with dozens of redheads around? Hermione froze momentarily - since when did she start seeing him as handsome?

Hermione played through the last couple of years in her mind. She had put her personal life on hold. Relationships and love had always been tricky for her. She had very high standards, and being a single mother did not necessarily have men lining up at her door. Of course, she'd dated, but just casually and usually something to 'scratch the itch'- but nothing had ever felt right. Nothing had ever felt like what she felt right now; happiness mixed with contentedness. She inhaled the unmistakable Burrow smell that was both calming and electrifying. 

Why  _ shouldn't  _ she want to spend time with him? He wasn't connected to anyone; she would have heard about it if he was, and there was certainly no one in her life. Unless you count the raven-haired little girl who claimed she was not afraid of the giant moving snake firework yet was clinging to Charlie's t-shirt for dear life. He calmed and reassured her she was safe, and it reminded Hermione why dating was so tricky. They were a package deal; any man she dated would have to know that. Although, Charlie seemed to understand that better than anyone. 

She shook her head to clear the silly thoughts from her mind; there was no telling he would even be interested in her. For all she knew, he only saw her as a sister figure. 

As the fireworks came to a close and summer was officially announced in traditional Weasley fashion, Charlie began to chase the girl, pretending to be a dragon. She ran screaming and laughing before losing interest as soon as she saw the junior wands George was handing out for the kids to play with. 

Back at Hermione's side, he stood awkwardly with a youthful grin spread across his face. 

"So, Hermione…" "So, Charlie…", They uttered simultaneously. 

"You go first…" "No, you go first…"

A light chuckle settled between them as well as a charged force, probably a remnant from the magical fireworks. 

She coiled her arms around her torso, suddenly feeling more exposed than if she were starkers. "So, since you've been to one of these festival things… I was wondering if you could give me any hints or pointers?" 

"Um yeah… advice. I mean, well, there's this thing there called… well um." He scrunched his face and peered at her cooly. "It's actually easier if I just showed you. It's tough to explain how those places work. I mean, they're really a bunch of weirdos, and that's saying a lot from a man that works with dragons." He snickered out. 

"Yeah? I mean, yeah…" Hermione giggled as well, unclear. "Like show me in a Pensieve?" 

His deep laughter was charming and supportive. "No, you silly wench..." At Hermione's alarmed look, he added. "That's what they call some woman there… What I'm saying is, maybe I could come with you and Iris?" 

Hermione's eyes lit up. Did he want to spend time with her too? 

"I mean, if that's okay with you?" Charlie asked as his brothers started calling for him.

Hermione beamed. "Yes, yeah. That would be brilliant, I would love that...I...I mean, you could help us quite a bit, and of course, it would be wonderful to spend time with you- outside of the family get-togethers, that is, of course." Hermione cursed inwardly at how annoyingly childish she sounded in her head. 

"Great! Tomorrow morning, right?" Charlie responded as he shuffled backward towards his brothers, who were mocking him with taunts of 'quit flirting with our little sister.' 

Hermione ignored the chiding from the overgrown boys to grab the hand of her own child, who looked ready to fall asleep now that the excitement had worn off. She led them towards her parked car but turned quickly to see Charlie still looking in her direction. "So, I'll be by around 9:30 to pick you up then?"

Charlie beamed back and shouted in response. "It's a date!" before throwing her a wink and turning around to join his rowdy brothers. 

After getting in her car and checking to make sure Iris was buckled in and ready to go, Hermione put her key in the ignition. Magical travel had not always been a positive experience for Iris. Her first time traveling by floo, Harry had quite a mess to clean up in his living room. Until she got more acclimated to Magic, they had just resigned themselves to travel via car when they had her. Hermione actually preferred traveling by car; it gave her time to think- like now. 

Did she and Charlie really make a date, or was this just a friend helping another friend out? Besides, her daughter would be there; that means it couldn't be a date...

Or could it? 


	2. Knight in shining (but not in the conventional sense) armor

Hermione struggled to breathe as she attempted to exit her car the next morning. Iris was no help; as soon as the vehicle had come to a stop in the Burrow's dusty driveway, the girl had dashed off to show her outfit to whoever was around to see it. She clenched her core muscles and pulled at the edge of the door frame to stand up straight- this was going to take some getting used to. 

Her daughter had insisted that they wear costumes, and after much negotiation (the granger obstinance), Hermione complied. That was how she found herself wearing a form-fitting and rib-constricting red bodice over top of a full-sleeved ivory chemise with a blue skirt. She had finished her outfit off with a long belt from which she could hang things, such as a tankard holder and her trusty beaded bag. The bag she had transfigured into a soft brown leather so that it wouldn't stand out, although as she looked down, it was painfully obvious she would stand out anyways. 

Her usually decently-sized breasts were now doubled in size thanks to the bodice. The woman at the costume rental shop swore to her it was expected for that period, which Hermione knew to be false. But she went along with it because even though an anachronism it may be, her young daughter was beyond thrilled with how her mother looked. The days of Iris wanting to be in her presence, let alone approving of what she wore, were going to become few and far between. 

Iris had picked for herself a faux leather warrior's outfit complete with baldric and sword. As part of their negotiations, though, she settled on a lovely 'wee Irish Lass' dress instead. The young girl was adorable in the long gown that came down to cover her bright rainbow-colored trainers perfectly.

As breathing became more manageable, Hermione heard a small explosion coming from the backside of the house. Running as best she could towards the noise, which was accompanied by male laughter, she stopped to study the sight in front of her. 

Several figures were sending _Confringo_ and _Expulso c_ urses at a knight- a knight in shining armor, to be exact. Not shining in the conventional sense, but gleaming in varying shades of blues and greens- some even looking translucent in the morning sunlight. 

Laughter rebounded through the air just as rapidly as the spells did off the beautiful armor. The knight met each jinx with controlled actions and excellent placement.

"What on earth are you guys doing?" Hermione announced upon her approach to Bill, who was still wearing the same clothes he was wearing the night before. He reached out to her and dragged her in close for a side hug; the slight smell of firewhiskey and cigars lingered around him. "Little sister, watch this. George hit him with the  _ Bombarda _ …" 

George chuckled malevolently before releasing the charm upon the poor knight. A brief moment of panic coursed through her as she did the mental math at the redheads surrounding her and noticed the one not accounted for. 

Charlie evaded the charm but took a stunner from Percy straight to his back. The armor lit up a fluorescent glow in the spot where the spell had hit, but his performance showed no impact. Ron then threw a  _ Reducto _ curse at him, which also met its mark, created a bright spot, but didn't slow him down. He zigged and zagged out of the way of various other strikes as Hermione noticed Bill had let go of her and was throwing a curse at him of his own making. She knew these had the potential to be quite lethal. 

Starting to move towards him upon the impulse to protect, one of the laughing asinine brothers- who she could not be sure, reached to hold her back. "You don't want to do that, little sister; that armor is charged right now. Ask Theo over there what happens when you touch it when it's charged." 

Seeing that Charlie had successfully evaded Bill's curse with no harm, she turned her attention to Theo Nott. The man was half asleep lying on top of a sleeping bag, next to abandoned piles of butterbeer bottles, plates of food, and crisp wrappers with his arm in a homemade sling.

The siblings were all talking over themselves as they helped Charlie take the Dragon-Scale helmet off. His long auburn hair, coated in sweat, clung to the grin-covered face as he teased and complimented his brothers on nearly taking him down.

"You all know you could have killed him…" Hermione burst through the revelry, reminding them of her presence. "That was quite stupid...and ...and while drinking and on no sleep as well. Really?" 

Percy had the decency to look ashamed as he went to put a blanket over his sleeping boyfriend, while Bill kicked at the ground with a childish grin across his face. Though Charlie's piercing gaze had not left hers since she had spoken. Presumably, due to her added cup size, she was sure. 

Ron spoke up, "Come off it, Mione, he's fine. Did you see he was dodging most of em' anyway? Besides, you're early. You weren't supposed to be here to pick him up for another half an hour…" 

"And he likes it anyway. Don't you, Chuck?" George interjected as he went to go pat the nickname-hating Charlie on the back. Before remembering, he was wearing Dragon-scaled armor that was highly charged with Magic that would shock when touched; he hastily pulled his hand back. "Have no worries, Milady. Yon gentleman, whilst be ready but momentarily." George bowed pompously before Bill whacked him upside the back of his head. The motley crew made their way back up to the house, reflecting on their wands and spell-manship along the way. 

Hermione watched after the still-laughing men, who really were just boys who never grew up when around each other. She had no other recourse but to shake her head and laugh. It was at that moment she realized Charlie had stayed behind to walk back with her. She didn't want him to think she was too mad at him for his foolishness, so she offered a verbal olive branch with a smirk. "That was quite impressive, but do I want to know how you came across Dragon-scale armor?" 

She saw a sheepish grin take over his face as well as his eyes, which were definitely looking a lot more north than she thought they would be. "You know the raid your department orchestrated this last spring- the one against the Dragon-scale smugglers? Well, anyway, after the raid, the Aurors sent us dragonologists some of the evidence they collected to find out exactly what they were doing with the scales. Even though some of the smugglers got away, they were able to get several plans and drawings. As far as we can tell, they were attempting to incorporate them into wearable items such as this for defensive purposes. Possibly even weaponizing them. " 

Hermione stopped to look at him, "I read about that in your report... but they were putting them in chain-mail armor?" She asked with speculation.

The splendid armor decorating his muscular body was undoubtedly well crafted in both design and attention to detail. What looked like a hand-forged chain-mail hauberk hung loosely over a long green tunic with gold edging. The blue-green shades of Dragon-Scale were formed into a breastplate over his torso, shoulders, and on his arms. He also had Dragon-scale leg bracers over black breeches and an attention-grabbing piece covering his hips.

"No, not necessarily in armor..." He looked down at himself, noticing her eyes wandering over his body approvingly. "But according to the drawings, they were planning on embedding the scales somehow into a shirt so that it would deflect defensive spells for the wearer. So they wanted me to try to recreate it the best I could according to the plans. This..." He motioned to himself with a somewhat cocky smirk, "was just so we could get the most out of the testing phase. As soon as we know what they are trying to accomplish, the sooner they can put a stop to it. And the sooner they can keep their hands off my bloody dragons." 

Hermione loved seeing the protectiveness coming out in Charlie as he talked about the things he loved. 

"Now, let me go change so we can get going." He started to take off the Dragon-scale and Chainmail till he was in naught but the green tunic and breeches. Bill took the precious Dragon-scales and put them in a protected case to keep them from getting damaged. Hermione knew that the scales were in no better hands between the curse breaker and the dragonologist. 

As Hermione turned to ask Charlie why he was changing, her breath caught again; this time, it had nothing to do with the bodice. 

Charlie had taken the tunic off entirely and was standing in nothing but a kilt and black slouchy boots. His sweaty chest still panting from the exhaustion of removing the heavy armor. His muscles gleamed in the sunlight, and she watched as his magical tattoos traveled and played across his slender middle. How had she not noticed him in a kilt not moments ago? He must've transfigured his breeches into the tartan plaid kilt while she was distracted. 

How could she get distracted when he was standing there, his narrow midsections planes and soft golden curls formed downward into a v, dipping ever so close to his…

And Hermione's trance was broken as Iris came running out into the yard carrying a linen bag. 

"Mum, Look. Gran-Molly packed us up some bagged lunches to take with us. She made you two old-englishy type stuff like fruits, cheese, and bread, but she made me a peanut butter and honey sandwich." 

"My Wild Iris!" Charlie cried as he scooped her up into his arms to swirl her around- his kilt, also twirling as he turned. 

He had put a shirt on, a white muslin-looking one, open and loose at the top. He also must've cast a cleaning charm on himself as he looked perfect and ready to face the medieval world. His long, slightly curly hair had a bounce to it, and he smelled like a warm Scottish summer's day outside by the Black Lake at Hogwarts. 

"Well, shall we M'ladies," He spoke in an exaggerated accent as he held first his hand out for Iris to grasp, then with a saucy grin and a wink, he offered his arm to Hermione. 

As they strolled to Hermione's car to make the drive to the festival, all the Weasleys still in residence made their way outside to watch the uniquely outfitted procession. 

"I see now how you got the best legs award, brother!" Bill roared over the top of Molly and Arthur's wishes for them to have fun and not to get into trouble. 


	3. Good day Mi'lady

"Charlie Weasley, you never cease to amaze me," Hermione announced with a chuckle underneath her breath. The enchanting realm of Westerleyshire welcomed them as they entered the walled gates of the Westmoreland Medieval Festival.

Since Hermione did not believe that this was anything other than Charlie coming along as a favor, she had planned to pay his way in and was quite adamant about it. Even when Charlie declared that the notion was ridiculous, and this was his treat. There was a staredown and a race to see who could get to their money the fastest. If it weren't for the fact that her damn bag was extended and her wallet in the very bottom, she would have beaten him before he could swipe his credit card. 

"What? You think, just because I'm a pureblood that I don't know how to use a credit card-I'm related to Arthur Weasley; need I remind you." His carefree smile was as attractive as the surrounding atmosphere they had just traversed into. 

All around them were rows upon row of two-story wooden shops with various flags hanging from their opened store-fronts. Goods ranging from toys to tankards, Jewelry to tarot cards, gems, and clothing, as far as the eye could see. Music flooded the air, flute, harps, drums, and the accompanying sound of merriment.

Charlie nodded thanks to a young lad dressed as a court jester as he handed him a map with a list of showings and Vendors on the back. He bent down to Iris' level with a determined look, "Now, my Wild Iris, this is an important job. You are in charge of the map. You're the one who will tell us exactly where to go. Can you do that, wee lass?" 

Hermione was inundated by emotion as she analyzed the man and just how lovingly he interacted with her daughter. "Of course I can," the girl gaped up at him nodding her head vigorously, wild curls flailing everywhere before looking eagerly at the map to try to scout where to go first. "My dad tells me all the time that he doesn't know what he would do without me navi... um... nagigate... um, if I wasn't there to be his map for him when he is driving..." 

"Aye, your dad is a whizz on a broomstick, for sure, but driving a car-," The last part he met Hermione's face with a grimace that she matched with an animated laugh. "I'm sure he wouldn't be able to do it without you...Anyways, where to first?" 

"Umm," She scanned around the sprawling grounds to see out front what she saw before her on the map. Hermione looked over her shoulder to get her bearings as well. 

According to the program, Westerlyshire was a 15th-century village. Yet, as she looked around and saw the various degrees of garb as she was informed it was called, you would not be able to tell that. A person dressed in an entirely accurate ensemble of a twelfth-century peasant walked alongside a fairy, complete with elf ears and glitter make-up. Every color of the rainbow could be seen on bodices and corsets. Most made her moderately larger bust look like an ironing board. Some women were in Victorian Era Gowns with gears and sprockets attached to their waists and eyewear that resembled sci-fi movie props. Her favorite, though, was the pirates that staggered around with what were hopefully fake guns stuck into their breaches - guns like those were not in existence until the 17th century at least. 

The anachronisms made her eye twitch. But the lovely scene of Iris grabbing Charlie's hand and pulling him over to a vendor's tent that held miniature Dragons made the frustrations more bearable. 

Hermione had had "the talk" with Iris about behaving in a muggle environment many times and not talking about the 'M' word. Hermione only got slightly uneasy as the mischievous-looking child peered up at her mother and smiled knowingly. She pulled the large man down by his shirt sleeve to whisper something in his ear. Only able to hear his side of the conversation, she slowly pieced two and two together. 

"Uh-huh… okay. Oh, she did, did she? Yes, they do. No, not quite that small. Well, I think we may have to remedy that, don't we 'wee lass'?" He replied as he stood tall and called the shopkeeper over as Iris started giggling madly in her mother's direction. 

"All right, you two... didn't your Gran-Molly say not to get into trouble?" Hermione teased as Iris pointed out a bright blue dragon to Charlie and the shopkeep. 

Hermione marveled at the unique little dragons, all only as big as your hand. Each was laying on its side, curved around to look like it was nestled into a ball. Their wide tummies were the only part not covered in a soft plush material; instead, it was smooth and plastic-like with drawn-on dragon-scales. But the most magnificent part was to see their little chest rise and fall as if they were breathing, thanks to an on and off switch. 

Iris had asked her repeatedly for a dragon as a pet. And of course, as any sane parent had done, she had said no. Iris had even tried going behind her back to ask her father. Hermione's response had been, 'the day dragons come with an on/off switch is the day they would get one as a pet.' 

"Charlie," Hermione began with a simper as Iris brought over the small stuffed dragon. "Really? You didn't have to do that…" she said as she admired the adorable little toy creature in Iris' hands. "Do you want to put him in your bag, sweetheart? And did you say thank you to Uncle Charlie?" 

"No, Mum, I want to hold him…" The 7-yr old had not stopped looking at the tiny creature yet; most likely, she was pretending its little breathing motions meant it was real. She lowered her voice so as not to wake her sleeping dragon. "Thank you so much for little Albuquerque Uncle Charlie." 

Hermione groaned at her choice of name as Charlie just chuckled and mouthed, "Albuquerque," to which Hermione just shrugged her shoulders. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying all the things that the Renaissance Fair had to offer. They saw minstrels performing in the squares and puppet shows they realized were not child-appropriate after the first five minutes. Iris' favorite was the MudMaid show; she laughed endlessly at the three laundresses' antics and their muddy ways. 

They had missed the first Jousting of the day because Hermione had entered Charlie into the 'Best Legs in a Kilt' Contest, to which he took home first prize- his reigning title.

There was even a moment where Hermione had some time to browse inside a little bookshop as Charlie took Iris to get butterfly wings painted on her face. While she was standing there, a young woman, maybe 16 years old with a basket of roses, walked up to her. 

"Excuse me, Milady," Hermione moved out of the way, thinking that she was just trying to get through. "Are you Missus Granger?" 

Hermione, slightly taken aback now, answered the girl politely." I am. Can I help you?" 

"The chap over there in the kilt..." She pointed to where Charlie and Iris were bowing as the fair's nobility made their twice-daily processional. She handed her a rose, deep rich red in color, "He said to give this to you. You've got a really nice little family there, ma'am... nice husband, quite fit too." 

Hermione breathed in the rose's gentle fragrance before the young woman's words sunk in. "Wait, no, he's not my..." But it was too late; she was gone. Settling the rose inside of the ties of her bodice, she started towards her-well, her little family. She spoke quietly but confidently to herself, "But it's not something I think I'd say no to." 

They stopped down by the children's fairy glen to eat their packed lunches beneath a beautiful oak tree decorated with Fairy doors and various tacky decorations. 

Iris wolfed her peanut butter and honey sandwich down as quickly as she could so that she could go join the fairies in making children's art and crafts.

"What do you think the Fairy Queen would do if she knew that there was a REAL fairy village, not 14 miles from here?" Hermione pondered as she nibbled on her french bread and cheese that Molly had packed them. 

Charlie stared up in reflection before popping a grape into his mouth. His full, beautiful, sensuously... "She'd probably be just as shocked to know that she has a Half-veela in her Fairy court," Charlie interrupted her mouth-gazing stupor. 

"Wait... Half-Veela? Where?" 

"The blonde one, with the green-ish wings and the doc martens." He waved over towards where Iris was sitting at a long wooden table with several other children creating flower crowns. The woman in question was beautiful for sure as Hermione studied her closer. 

"Are you certain?" she squinted her eyes as if seeing with her two eyes was how she typically detected magical beings. 

"Aye, I am... but are you certain you are the Director for MB&B?" Charlie ducked as she swung the now emptied linen bag at Charlie for his cheekiness. "Hermione, think about it. If that was a veela, half-veela, quarter-veela, whatever amount veela, any man is gonna know. And I am a man, am I not?" He reclined back against the tree, with his arms folded behind his head and legs crossed over one another, his masculine thighs on display as his kilt spread out around him. 

"But why aren't you..." Hermione thought about it as she turned to look at the woman. He should be falling over himself trying to get her attention. Despite his teasing, she did know quite a bit about Veela's and their Magic due to her job. Some could withstand the temptation of a veela- but only those whose heart already belonged to someone else. 

Hermione shot her head up quickly. Charlie was watching her intensely, an expression that entered into her mind, answering the unasked question. 

Did that mean...? 

Charlie jumped to his feet and extended his hand towards her to help her up as well. Instead of surrendering her hand, he brushed his thumb lightly over the top before bringing it to his lips. The tender touch of his breath as it ghosted the back of her hand was surreal. 

"The veela have no power over me because my heart belongs to another. And has for a long time." 

The feel of Magic swelled over top of them, not the kind produced with a wand, but the type manifested from within. Charlie bent his head nearer to hers as she reached up towards him and their lips touched. Hermione could not tell where the angelic sound of the ‘hallelujah chorus' was coming from - but it swept over her as Charlie pulled her closer still.

He slanted his lips to match hers, and their kiss met as two pieces of a puzzle. He caressed her cheek as she kissed him deeply - speaking to him the wordless conversation of desire, devotion, and to her surprise- love. 

Her heart had not been this full since 7-years ago when she had learned to love for the first time. 


	4. Never Gonna Give You Up

"Albuquerque," came a desperate cry from over in the Fairy Glen, breaking the trance between Hermione and Charlie. "Albuquerque, I can't find him. Where are you, my sweet little dragon?"

Both adults were at Iris' side within seconds to calm the sobbing child as she realized her new toy, the one she had been so careful with all day, was missing.

"Iris, It's okay, love." Hermione eased her curls from her wet face and wiped at her tears.

"But mummy, he is probably so scared right now. I was supposed to take care of him, like how you take care of me and Uncle Charlie takes care of you." Hermione clutched her precious offspring to her chest, welcoming the love that encircled her and her little family at that moment.

She could feel one of Charlie's hands smoothing the girl's hair down as well. Simultaneously, the other sat possessively on her hip like it had every right to be there - and it did. His large hand felt comfortable and natural even though he had never touched her as such.

"Is everything alright, Director Granger?" The young half-veela had come over to see if she could lend support.

Surprised the woman was aware of who she was, Hermione answered timidly, "Yes, Thank you um…"

"Emilia Petrova, Ma'am… But here, they know me as Marigold."

Hermione recognized the name immediately; in fact, she had interviewed the woman not that long ago for a position in her department. Hermione felt suddenly embarrassed that she was not able to identify the woman through her Magic. Although in her defense, she was somewhat distracted by quite possibly the most handsome man in a Kilt.

"Yes, Of course. Marigold, Iris has lost her toy dragon..."

"And he's sleeping, and I don't want him to wake up and be scared. I think I had him last at.. well, I don't know where I had him last..." Iris' tears gained momentum again.

Hermione thought back to the last hour. She seemed to recall the little dragon last being with them at the Gaol. They watched various people singing 'I'm a little teapot' or 'dancing the Macarena' as they served out their 'sentences' for mundane offenses.

"I know exactly where he is, sweetheart. But, the Joust is going to start soon, and I don't know that we can get there and back in time…"

"Director Granger, Maybe I could take Iris to the Joust while you both go look for her lost friend." Marigold looked to Hermione and Charlie. "That is if it's okay with Lady Iris, that is…"

"Yes, yes, Mum... please can I go with Marigold? The Fairy court has a special place at the Joust. Please, please, I'll be so good, I promise." The Potter charm was turned up to the max. Hermione felt comfortable enough entrusting her daughter with the young woman. After all, if she was as careful and responsible as she remembered from the interview, then Iris would be in great hands.

"Thank you, Marigold. We won't be too long…" Charlie answered for Hermione as he grasped her hand in his and pulled her along before she had a chance to dispute it.

"Take all the time you need…" Marigold shouted after them.

Hermione felt like a schoolgirl again about to embark on some crazy adventure- Fearless, free, and thoroughly cared for.

They made their way to the Gaol, where the little toy dragon was sleeping behind the PVC-pipe made bars. Charlie explained the situation to the Jailer and went to grab the dragon from the cell. The guard, who must've been a theatre-trained actor, smirked at Charlie and spoke under his breath in his modern accent, "You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

"This chap ere' wants he's baby dragon back... '' Roars of laughter came from the other actors sitting at the Gaol stage at his bellowing performance-which was now in a dramatic drawn-out accent. "What should I make em' do to get it back? Dance a lil' jig in ees' kilt." A lot of the ladies who had stopped to watch the spectacle cheered at that suggestion. " Or hows about, he recites a sonnet to ees' lovely missus here…"

Charlie and Hermione were ushered up onto the small stage where the Head Jailer sat with his guards surrounding him. "Your task is to present your fine lady here with a sonnet of your choosing. If she agrees it is worthy, you may have your wee beasty back."

Hermione's face reddened as she took in the crowd around her. She hated that he would be put on the spot all in defense of a toy dragon. Although Charlie looked resolute as he took her hand and got down on one knee.

"The game of love, we intimately know-  
it's laws and maxims mastered by our hearts;  
Thus, I propose to be your only beau  
With passions that no other could impart.  
These feelings that weigh heavy in my breast  
Should in your soul be similarly sown;  
I pledge these vows, most earnestly express'd,  
To make my deep affections truly known:  
That never shall I vacate from thy side,  
Nor ever shall I disappoint you hence,  
Nor will the day approach that wounded pride  
Could rise from some unfaithful dalliance.  
My actions leave your face unstained by tears,  
And the Ledgers of my lies shall remain clear."

Hermione brushed her hand upon his jaw as her heart swelled with pride.

This was no ancient Weasley motto or instructions on how to descale a dragon's carcass - Charlie had just recited poetry to her, on a stage while being watched by a crowd of people. However, at that moment, it could have only been the two of them with how he looked at her.

"Does Milady approve of yon suitors' words of prose?" The Jailer asked with a heavy commanding voice.

"Yes, yes. I approve…" She giggled as Charlie stood up and graced her cheek with a chaste kiss. She then whispered for only him to hear, "I don't think I'm gonna give you up either, Charlie..." The man's face turned as red as his hair as he realized she, of course, could tell the sonnet was actually just a revision of Rick Astley's 'Never gonna give you up.'

"I'm gonna hold you to that, brightest witch." He whispered back as his lips brushed her ear, and merriment was heard throughout the crowd.

After Albuquerque was safely nestled into Hermione's bag, they decided to take advantage of the rest of the fair and their time alone. They strolled amongst the shops and chatted, finally able to speak freely.

"I can't believe I was so distracted that I didn't realize there was a Veela helping my daughter with a craft. Let alone one that I had already met AND conducted an interview with..." Hermione considered, "I wonder how many other Magicals are here. This would be a good place to come and be anonymous, I guess."

Charlie nodded but was slightly distracted. He gazed at a stand in the distance with various pieces of armor for sale.

"Yeah, this would be the kind of place for people- especially those looking to sell illegal goods -to just blend in… Hermione, will you excuse me?"

They had stopped by a shop that sold artwork of Wizards and Witches. It was quite comical to see what muggles thought they looked like. Charlie kissed her on her cheek and squeezed her hand to assure her he'd be right back before walking off towards the armor tent.

Hermione grinned to herself and thought about the change between them. It was as if every emotion and deep-rooted feeling she had for the man came to light the moment his lips touched hers. As she perused the dusty run-down shop, she allowed her mind to wander. She saw visions of them together alone in her large bed, his body pressed against hers. Solid masculinity displayed while he peppered her exposed body with kisses, between breathy lines of sonnets...

"Don't think I have anything that would interest your lot in here...?" the shopkeep, an elderly gentleman with a sinister sneer, implied gruffly, disturbing her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just browsing..." Hermione tried to make her response sound polite as she looked around the shop, not understanding the man's harsh tone.

The man started to walk towards her as another person she had not seen earlier locked the shop's front door.

"Ah, I see you are closing. I'll just be on my way."

His gruff chortle sent a chill up her spine causing her to reach toward her beaded bag to locate her wand.

"No, I don't think you will, Hermione Granger…" The chill turned to panic as a voice rasped behind her. Rough hands gripped hers and pulled her tightly against a solid chest halting her struggle to get away.

"Incarcerous," the shopkeep uttered the spell.

"And to think, A ministry employee walking around as a common wench. And none other than the illustrious Director Granger at that." The hands spun her around, causing her to tumble over some prints stacked against the wall.

"McGregor, why you gotta make such a mess… This is me livelihood now that this Bitch has taken away my other source of income."

Hermione's mind screamed at her- Mcgregor. One of the Dragon-scale smugglers they had not been able to catch - a former death eater on top of that. She looked around at her surroundings, trying to understand what she was dealing with.

"Don't worry, Johansson…" McGregor jutted his wand up against her neck before running the vile piece of wood beneath her jawbone. "Pretty soon, money won't be something you need to worry about. I think the going ransom rate for something as juicy as what we have here is a lot higher than these horrid and inaccurate pictures - or even dragons out back for that matter..." His hand ghosted over Hermione's hips as she struggled to fight the incarcerous curse on her.

"You will let me go this instant…" Hermione directed as Mcgregor slapped a silencing spell on her as well. She continued her silent tirade, feeling fury and rage growing inside her.

From what she gathered, they were planning on kidnapping her and ransoming her.

"Here comes the bloke she was with… Take her out back with the dragons."

Relief swelled inside her; Charlie was close. He was coming back. She grasped at every piece of tangible Magic she could feel inside her to try to break the spells holding her prisoner. She felt the feeling again, the same one that settled over her as he kissed her and screamed as the grubby-handed man pulled at her while she kicked and cried silently. All of a sudden, her voice broke through the magical barrier…

"Charlie…" she shrieked before a dull throb resounded in her head, and blackness overcame her.


	5. Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

Pain pulsated through Hermione's head, causing her to recoil. Opening her eyes slowly, she surveyed her surroundings.

She must've been able to defeat the incarcerous curse when she broke through the silencing charm as she was now able to move her hands and legs. This was only a small comfort as she still had no idea where she was or how long she had been knocked out. 

Laughter and the sound of Irish drums could still be heard in the distance, so she felt confident she had not been taken far. She released the breath she was unaware she had been holding, glad not to have been apparated away. 

A rumbling grunt followed by the rustling of a chain came from the corner of the enormous cage she found herself inside. She reached for her bag at her waist but found nothing. Her shoes, belt, and bodice were also missing. 

Glancing towards where the sound was coming from, she saw a large Dragon. Its deep brown-green eyes held indignity and anger as it hobbled suspiciously towards her. 

"Whoa. Hey there, calm down…" Hermione tried to reason with what looked like a medium-sized adult Welsh Green. She put her hand behind her to retreat to the edge of the cell and encountered something cold, leathery, and moving- but only somewhat. Rotating her head ever so slightly so as not to take her gaze from the still advancing threat, she glimpsed behind her. It was the soft underside of a second dragon's stomach. The movement was its chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. It reminded her of Albuquerque's but on a grander scale and without the on and off switch. 

It had been years since she had last been hands-on with a dragon. Her job now was to fight for the animals' rights, not be locked in a cage with them. Her best guess was the dragon beneath her hand was just a youngling, maybe only a teen. However, it was obviously not in good health. She instinctively rubbed a hand over the exposed belly compassionately. 

A distressed grunt left the larger dragon's throat. The little dragon joined the other's cry, and together they lamented. Hermione quickly apprehended the situation. 

This was a mother and child. 

Things had just gotten direr; not only did she need help, but they needed help as well. She knew just the expert dragonologist to call for. "Charlie…" She screamed out forcefully, which earned a harsh rumble and a loud clunk from the Mother Dragon as she tried to pull at her shackled leg. 

It sniffed the air with deep grunts of irritation as Hermione put her hands out to try to calm her down; she hadn't meant to startle her. 

"Hey, hey. Mummy… It's okay. It's alright, beautiful... Shhh. " 

The plaintive moan was heartbreaking to hear. As was the echo that reverberated off the invisible wall inside the open-aired amphitheater-indicating the area was spell protected, and no cry for help would escape. 

The enclosure was situated atop an old stage with a castle as its backdrop in what looked like an abandoned part of the fair. Tattered banners and trash lay littered along the rows of benches. 

"Shhh, it's okay. I get it, love." Hermione used her best 'mum voice', the one she used when Iris was sad. "I'm a mother too." Hermione smoothed her hand over the young animal's wide stomach to comfort it, showing its mother she would calm its child when it could not. It was only then that she noticed the missing scales. 

Her calming speech seemed to ease the frightened dragons, so she continued on with her spoken words. "My baby is out there too. I want to help you, and I am going to get us out of here if it's the last thing I do…" 

The mother dragon wailed an afflicted cry. 

A heavy noise thundered towards the set's backstage, causing the dragon to turn and snarl loudly. Hermione bent down so she was somewhat obscured by the smaller beast's still large frame. 

"Be careful with that, would ya. Those scales will go off like exploding snap if they're charged..." The sound of angry voices lifted through the air as they entered the silencing charms boundary.

"McNair should be here any moment now to get Granger. He figures between the Ministry, Potter, hell, even some death eaters- Someone'll pay a pretty penny to get their hands on her."

"Well, What do you want me to do with her?" 

"Meh, leave her in there fer now. She should stay knocked out till after he gets here. The Weasley fella is still looking around for her, but Johansson told him she ran off with some Viking bloke over to the food court on the other side of the fair, so 'at should buy us some time. I'll send Johansson out to snatch the Bitches little brat as soon as he gets back in- that outta get even more money from Potter. He said she's over at the Joust with some veela. Hey, while we are at it, get rid of that sickly little bugger, would ya... I figure we's gots all the scales we're gonna get outta him. I'm tired of hearing him whine.…" 

Hermione could feel a magic building inside her that she had only felt one other time as a bestial growl filled the air; she was not sure if it had come from the dragon or herself.

If they laid one hand on her daughter...

Magic manifested within her, where it was radiating from precisely she could not be sure- it tore through her veins like adrenaline rushing to a wound. Her hair bristled with an electric charge. Next to her, the Mother Dragon emitted a deep growl that harmonized with the energy issuing from Hermione's person.

"What's that…?"

"What's what? You're hearing things again. Go take care of the dragon and make sure the bitch didn't get eaten by the mum...."

Every modicum of power and Magic seemed to course through her. Her bare feet on the wood floor made a connection with another energy source. 

The mother dragon was somehow sending her scales' defensive charge into Hermione. She welcomed it like an old friend and let it envelop her. 

A mother's love, she could feel it. The protectiveness and devotion she felt the moment she first laid eyes on Iris filled her now as a lone figure entered to the left.

She guided her outstretched arm to the dragon's chained leg and let forth an outflow of energy, instantly vanishing the metal shackle from around the dragon's leg. Feeling her rage propel her Magic, she let loose another blast toward the top and side of the cage. Both ceiling and wall fell away, allowing the dragon to take flight into the open-aired pavilion. 

"What the… HELP, she's loose, the dragon is loose..." The man could only get out an initial cry for help as the dragon landed with a thud on top of him, pinning his arms to the stage floor with her sharp talons. Her mighty roar echoed throughout the air and shattered the protection spells surrounding the area. 

Hermione could feel before she could see additional threats heading their way,

As soon as they rounded the corner with their wands trained at both Hermione and the dragon, she ran and lept to kick with a force she did not know she had towards the closest opponent. Her bare foot made a satisfying crunch as she broke his nose. As another man attempted to cast an _Incarcerous_ on the mighty dragon, she shot out a burst of energy. His efforts were in vain as he was shot back into the wall of the faux castle. 

Dragons fire enveloped a man as he careened off the stage, attempting to put himself out as another wrestled with the dragon and her sharp talons. 

Hermione whirled around just in time to see a green ball of light-headed her way and the words _Crusio_ leaving McGregor's lips. The spell hit her full force as she walked towards him unphased. He threw the curse again, confusion marring his face as the attack made contact, but her momentum did not halt. As soon as she reached the now terrified man, she grabbed his throat and raised him up into the air as terror welled in his eyes. He dropped his wand. 

"Don't. Touch. Our. Babies." Hermione's words were concise. Energy flew through her fingertips into Mcgregor, causing him to crumple to the ground. 

The dragon had successfully dispatched the last remaining threat, who was in the corner covered in what looked like blood and piss, crying. But her head was now leveled at the backstage mouth, ready to release dragon's fire.

Hermione felt him before she saw him. But it was too late; the dragon had no way of knowing the knight running at full speed towards her across the stage was not a threat. 

  
  


The dragon released her fiery torrent onto the last of the threats. Just as Hermione's scream of "Noooooo...." propelled her to run to protect Charlie, who seemed oblivious to the dragon's danger. She could feel that she still had the dragon's protection, even from the dragon's fire. 

"Hermione, NO." He yelled they collided. He pushed her to the ground before throwing himself on top of her as flames engulfed them both. 

As soon as all the smoke cleared, Aurors came rushing into the amphitheater. 

Unharmed but covered with soot and ash, Hermione rose to yell loudly, "Mum, It's okay... They are good..." to which the mother dragon quickly lumbered over to its child. 

She then turned to the equally unharmed but breathing intensely Charlie. 

"How? I don't understand," "Wait, what just happened?!", They spoke in unison. 

"You go first!" "No, you go first!" 

A soft laugh settled between them. 

"Hermione, I love you. I have never been more scared in my life than when I thought you had come to harm. Im so sorry, I shouldn't have...." Tears were cascading down his face.

"Charlie, it's okay. Where's Iris?"

He nodded at her worried face while evening out his breath as he arranged her in his arms. "Fred and Ron are getting her. As soon as I realized this was where the smuggling was taking place, I got a hold of Bill... He brought the armor." 

They both looked down to see Hermione's hands atop the precious dragon-scales adorning his chest, unaffected by it. A cocky smirk graced her face while he quirked his eyebrow in speculation as to how she was doing that. 

"Wait, hold on, Charlie. You tackled me knowing the armor was... was...charged?" 

"Love, I can mend a couple of broken bones. But un-deep frying you is almost impossible. I just knew I couldn't lose you." He slowly looked at her, understanding she must've somehow bonded with the dragon for her to have been able to manifest the dragon-scales shielding powers. "Looks like 'the damsel in distress' didn't really need saving from the 'knight in shining armor' after all, huh?"

"There's so much to fill you in on..." She looked lovingly into his soft blue eyes. 

"You can tell me all about it tonight when I take you out for dinner?" 

"I like that idea." She answered with a saucy grin as she cuddled closer onto his lap. 

Charlie smoothed his hands over her back and kissed her forehead. "You do, do you?" 

"Yes, however, It's a long story it may take till breakfast..."

  
  


"I've got all the time in the world for you, Love," Charlie lifted her chin and took her lips between his.


End file.
